How can you eat your own Mother just to stay alive? Byrun's voice, full of contempt, rattled in Ell's head.

  It left a lasting echo that dulled the screech of the carriage as it jolted to a halt. Ell sat up groggily, head pulsing in sync with her drumming heart.

  [Sharp increase in Integration detected.]

  [Integration Value | 013]

  Selin pushed aside the curtains veiling the inside of the carriage and peeked her head in. "It's Versan," she said.

  Ell massaged her the bridge of her nose. "Ignore her," she ordered.

  No, Ell thought. I'll meet her.

  But instead of leaving the carriage or inviting her in, Ell lied down.

  She could not control her body.

  As her eyes closed, and the wheels rolled, Ell began panicking.

  No, no, no.

  'Why can't I control my body?' she screamed in her head at the only people—creatures, robots, somethings—who could hear her.

  The carriage abruptly halted again as the System answered, ‘Impersonator is activated, idiot.’

  Ell sighed in relief, and a tiny bit of embarrassment, before realizing an irksome detail. ‘What do you mean ‘it’s activated’? I was asleep just now.’

  The System replied coldly, ‘Unless a duration is set to deactivate a skill, or the Deviation Points run out, a skill will continue to be used.’

  [Impersonator Deactivated]

  Ell bit down on her tongue. ‘How many DVPs do I have left?’

  [Deviation Points | 0191]

  She groaned as she sat up. Over an hour’s worth of Impersonator was wasted on nightmares. ‘Shouldn’t you warn me, at least?’

  True to character, the System ignored her entirely.

  Selin parted the curtains. “Versan is blocking the way,” she said.

  This time, Ell’s actions followed her thoughts. She lowered her head slightly as she stepped through the curtains to stand beside Selin.

  The road in front, leading to the capital’s periphery, was lined with curious onlookers. Few recognized the fallen General, but once ‘Ilai’ appeared, people scrambled to clear her path and move out of sight.

  It had not been uncommon for Ilai to stroll the streets of Jemlar, stealing away children. The purpose was to shelter the orphaned and the abused, a consolation for herself before anyone else. But as with all rumors, the truth was twisted beyond recognition.

  Ilai had accepted the hatred and disgust. It helped her blend in with Jemlar’s distasteful nobility without having to put in the dirty work.

  Ell watched the last of the crowd, a limping grandmother and her young grandson, slowly disappear into a modestly sized house. Her gaze flitted to Versan. The stepmother mounted a large black steed. “Come in,” Ell invited.

  Versan had expected more resistance from ‘Ilai’, leaving her stunned for a second before she hastened to take advantage of whatever generosity she had been granted.

  When both women had settled into the carriage, Selin threw Versan a warning look and activated the sound blocker.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  As the carriage resumed its course, Versan’s horse tied to the rear, Versan spoke, “We're on the same side."

  Having learnt of Ilai’s backstory, Ell felt lesser need for Impersonator. She smiled coldly. “And what side is that?”

  “The side that wants the king dead.”

  Ell found it hard to believe, particularly with the lock above Versan’s head. She sneered, "You want to avenge my Mother, too? It must be painful bending so far backwards for your husband’s first wife.”

  Versan looked away, the gold coin strung at her neck swaying with the jostle of the carriage. “I have been a traitor longer than your Father had lost his wife.” She met Ell’s eyes and smiled. “I lost my first spouse to the King before he had as well.”

  That was one twisted family. Ell arched an eyebrow. “I don’t recall you marrying before your capture by the Unholies.”

  The older woman laughed lightly. “Indeed. It’s a long story. All I can say is that I have never lost a battle in the war. I am not losing this one either.” She paused. “Unless unaccounted variables arise.”

  Ell mulled over the implications. “In other words,” Ell pondered, “‘don’t interfere in my plans,’ is that it?”

  Versan laughed lightly. “No. In other words, cool off and come home; we’ll take him down together.”

  Ell hummed noncommittally while Versan left, closing her eyes as she leaned back. The carriage stopped briefly to let her leave, then departed to its final stop.

  When they arrived at the orphanage run by Ilai, Ell locked herself in her rooms.

  Ilai’s past and the flood gates of emotions unlocked were overwhelming. The more Ell uncovered about Ilai, the more she wanted to get out of her skin. She needed to keep Impersonator’s use to a minimum not only to protect herself from the grief spilling from the Ilai into her, but also to prevent ‘Ilai’ from acting rashly.

  She needed a plan. And before that, a decision whether to fight or to run.

  Ell remained in her quarters until evening clouds carried with them a Temple messenger. Ell did not let him wait for long. Temple-ordained priests were infamous for their bad tempers, curtsey of their unrivalled backer: the Emperor.

  Ordinarily, priests would not leave the Temples, tasked with documenting all the Blessed and their Blessings. They would obtain a tube of blood from each newly Blessed person and store it safely.

  In Ell’s case, due to the chaotic banquet, the blood collection had been delayed till today.

  The man strode into Ell’s study in white robes and a haughty demeanor.

  Given Ilai’s aversion to blood, Ell was ready to put on a show, only to discover that the Priest could siphon blood through skin directly into a dark glass tube. The mouth of the long thin tube was pressed to Ell’s thumb, blood drawn into it painlessly without a glimpse of red in sight.

  “It was expensive,” the Priest replied when she inquired about the uncommon consideration. “Your stepmother is very rich.”

  Versan. Ell was the most curious about the number behind that lock.

  When the Priest left, Varoth arrived. The man who had looked full of energy when Ell first met him, now thinned to gloomy husk.

  He slumped into one of the sofas. “There are no trails,” he said as he wet his chapped lips with a sip of tea a servant had brought over. “They are gone.”

  Ell expected as much. In the original story, Ilai undoubtedly tried her best to find Varoth and his family. If a month had not been enough, then two days would inevitably lead to nothing.

  Of course, there was something different this time. Ell had a Reviewer skill.

  From Ilai’s memories and Ell’s general understanding of Blessark, time manipulation skills, or looking into the past or the future, were never given as Blessings by the Dragon.

  The fact the System could use those skills, and given the Dragon’s earlier words about the System stealing the Dragon’s powers, Ell was sure that the petty creature could give those Blessings but refused to.

  With the Reviewer skill, Ell could find a way to trace Sonia and the children, but sharing that information with Varoth was a different matter altogether. The question was how far she would go for a man of dubious loyalties. Those white locks were starting to piss her off.

  Varoth stared silently at chandelier. “Your Highness,” he said in a murmur, “you don’t trust me anymore.” His head, rested on the sofa’s back, tilted towards her. “Your secrets are only kept with Selin, now.”

  Sitting opposite to him, Selin flicked her tail, stealing the cup of tea warming his hands and setting it far on the coffee table.

  He shot Selin a glare before straightening, taking out a sound-blocking cube, and addressing Ell solemnly, “You controlled that beast, but your Mark is not that of a Puppeteer.”

  Ell had not answered him since he stepped into the room, and now she kept that stance.

  Varoth knew too much. There were two options at hand. One, silence him although there was no direct evidence he was an enemy. Two, let him prove his loyalty so that it leaves no doubts in her heart.

  There was a long sigh. Varoth looked at Ell wearily. “All right. Let’s do it.” He mustered a smile. “Forget vind; let’s do a death bind.”

  It seemed he had known all along how things would unfold. Perhaps, he stayed out of loyalty, perhaps, he had a mission he had to see to the end.

  He took out a thin finger-long metal piece from his pocket and placed it in front of Ell before bearing his wrist. “In this way, I either obey or die.”

  Ell rubbed a thumb along the side of her forefinger. She smiled. “All right.”